


Poludei

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Ficlet, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 15:05:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11969895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Uhura follows Gaila to work.





	Poludei

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So named because I was on an Andrea video binge, which seemed very fitting for lady porn.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The music pounds right into the street, blaring loud and drawing in the lines, but Nyota, done up just for _this_ , strolls right to the door. The Andorian security takes one look at her long legs, exposed right to the thigh, and ushers her in. She ignores the whistles of the waiting men she passes. This outfit is cliché and a little too _little_ for her, but it does the job. And it’s worth it for that. She makes it inside without any ID, and she ducks her head away from the facial recognition scanners mounted high in the walls. It’s not that she really _cares_ what records she ends up on, but there’s one person in particular—one certain employee—who she’d rather not hear of this. She doesn’t know what she’d say.

She doesn’t know what she’d do, just what she wants, and that’s to be here when the stage lights beat down on the dance floor. Nyota keeps to the upper wrung of the club, well out of that lower circle littered with grinding bodies. Some wear even less than her, some nothing at all, and discarded fabric is all around the tables for it. Sweat and neon paints glisten with the raining glitter to create a secondary lightshow. Nyota stares straight through it, through the waving arms, antennas, horns, and billowing steam that obscures the stage. The stage is all she came for. As the music peaks, the floor opens up, and the rising platform brings the next performer with it.

Nyota’s breath hitches. Right on time. The stage levels out again, its dancer safely deposited, and Nyota watches with rapt attention as that dancer sets to work.

Instantly, the beat’s in her. A single flick of orange-red hair, and a green body’s dancing, luscious thighs spreading open as shapely hips swing down low. Long fingers thread into vivid curls, slide down soft cheeks, strain across a slender neck and slither over heaving breasts, curving past a taut stomach to cup between open legs. The Orion woman writhes on stage like a feral animal, a feline in heat, an _Orion_ on the prowl. Emerald flesh never looks so good as when it’s on a pedestal, slick with the heat of a club and moving to the glaring sound of guttural music. The dancer is captivating.

Nyota’s spellbound, as she always is, and for once, she just lets it consume her. This is the night where she doesn’t scurry off to the sides, hide herself under a hood and avoid eye contact at all costs while ogling the stage. She’s never been particularly shy, but this would be embarrassing to the core, awkward and difficult—it’s her roommate that she sneaks after in the dead of night, someone she considers a _friend_. And maybe nothing more. Gaila gets enough people pawing at her outside her own dormitory. And those people are usually men. 

And Nyota doesn’t know how Gaila feels about _women_ , but at times like this, she likes to imagine that Gaila’s _all fun_ and no boundaries, because she moves like a goddess of pure _sex_ sent to bless all mortals with her beauty. Dressed in nothing but golden chains that just barely hide the rosy buds of her nipples and the pink folds between her legs, Gaila fucks the very air around her. Her entire body sways with the beat, fluid and sensual and utterly enchanting. She’s everyone’s wet dream. She’s Nyota’s nightmare, and her face lights with pure ecstasy as she moves, like she’s trapped mid-orgasm even now.

Her eyes don’t sweep the crowd, don’t seem to _see_ anything, but squeeze shut as she bites her plump lips and rocks her hips forward. She tosses her hair, squeezes her breasts, and tosses one leg up, cart-wheeling back, exposing _everything_ for one tantalizing second before she’s on her feet again. Her legs slide together as she smoothes her palms along them, then she spreads them wide and thrusts her body forward, rocking in sync with every synthetic drum. Her mouth parts in a tall ‘o’, and Nyota could _swear_ she can hear the gasps and moans across the club, through all the noise, the way she occasionally does at night when Gaila’s fingers are on the prowl. When Gaila turns and shakes her ass, her skirt of thin straps bounces, the one in between her full cheeks jiggling to show off little peeks of flushed green skin. Nyota’s pulse is racing, like it always is. She wants to lick the shimmering sweat off Gaila’s supple lips. 

With every last beat, Gaila’s breasts bounce, full and perky, curvaceous as all hell, and every little detail of the movement is mesmerizing. A single chain is pulled too tight to slip free and reveal the very center of her nipples, but the rest can’t stay in place, and Nyota puts the pieces together of the rest of it, the delicious shape of them from every angle. Nyota’s often fantasized of tracing them with her mouth, nipping underneath and licking up to catch a single pebbled bud between her dull teeth, tugging and teasing before sucking it in and suckling Gaila’s scrumptious body on either of their beds. What she wouldn’t give to run her fingers through that fiery hair, to learn to dance like Gaila does, to hike one thigh over Gaila’s lap and grind them hard together, devouring one another as only two women could. 

With every passing second, the heat in the club seems to mount, until Nyota’s nearly choking on it, quivering and _ready_ , but she clenches her fists and stays, drinking it all in. When the music’s final boom signals its end, she’s sorry that it’s over, wants desperately for it to start again, even though she wants just as badly to slink away and fuck out this problem. She can’t do it. She can’t take her eyes off Gaila, and she knows, like always, that she won’t be leaving until Gaila’s stepped off the stage, finally breaking the spell. 

Gaila pauses to bow, like she always does, though most of the patrons are too busy getting themselves off to clap. Then she moves to turn, to stroll away, to disappear into the throng of slick bodies until the morning comes, and she slips into their dorm reeking of sex with some new lie on her lips. If she’d told the truth from the beginning, none of this would’ve happened. Nyota never would’ve judged her anyway. And Nyota wouldn’t have known the full extent of Gaila’s talents, and the truth that _friendship_ isn’t all Nyota craves.

But before any of that can happen, Gaila’s eyes sweep across the crowd, catching fast on Nyota’s. There’s no time to move; Nyota’s pinned in place. Her breath catches, her heart clenching to a stop. For a brief moment, Gaila simply _stares_ at her, still breathing hard with parted lips and eyes so dilated they’re all pitch black. 

Then Gaila quirks a knowing smile, and Nyota’s whole body seems to warm. Gaila winks and comes forward, slipping gracefully off the stage.

And Nyota shivers but finally smirks in return, because for all the starving patrons that whistle around her, Nyota knows _exactly_ who her starlet’s going home with.


End file.
